The neon-lit cityscape pulses with a life of its own, skyscrapers clawing at a smog-choked sky as rain slicks the streets below, your cursor hovers over a shadowed alleyway—a flicker of movement catches your eye, a figure darting behind a corroded dumpster, the click of your mouse sharpens the scene, zooming in to reveal a glint of metal tucked beneath soggy cardboard, a whispered voice crackles through unseen speakers, "They’re watching. Trust no one," as you navigate deeper, the ambient hum of the city dissolves into muffled static, a security drone’s spotlight sweeps the area, its beam grazing the edge of your screen, prompting a swift click to duck behind a flickering holographic billboard, the world narrows to your choices: seize the weapon, flee the scene, or dig deeper into the data-chip buried in your inventory, each decision rippling outward, unseen consequences threading through the underbelly of a world where every click carves a path toward ruin or redemption.
This minimalist game strips interaction down to its purest form—just tap the screen or click the mouse. Every action fuels two metrics: a real-time clicks-per-second counter and a cumulative tally tracking your relentless rhythm. No complex mechanics, no tutorials—just you, your reflexes, and the primal satisfaction of watching numbers climb with each decisive press.
This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website Learn more